Who Uses English Anyways?
by L'il Senzu
Summary: Mark finds himself a tad...distracted in his English class...wonder why... 3rd Pov. Slash. AU: Pretend the boys went to the same high school. OneShot. Please review.


Started about two months ago, in order to relieve writers block...since my writer's block has persisted, it became more of a WB project than anything. I'd attempt to write more on MochaLatte and come up with nothing so I'd work on this or my other WB proj...they did help some, unfortunately not enough since I'm still having issues with Mocha, but some. Anyways, this was inspired by the absolutely gorgeous guy in my psych class who got a little more attention than my psych prof did..., Alas! the ending isn't quite the same.

Marknot mine. Rogernot mine. Roger+MarkYay.

Who Uses English Anyways?

Mark really couldn't help it. Really, he couldn't. He tried. He tried all the time, every day in fact. He could never stop himself, though.

"Mark. Mark Cohen!"

Pain blossomed in his neck as he turned his head too quickly. "Yeah?" he asked Mrs. Hartwell, rubbing his neck idly.

"Would you mind paying attention?" she snapped before returning to her lecture.

"Sorry ma'am." Mark muttered before looking at the board for the first time in twenty minutes.

Like he expected, he was completely lost upon seeing what was written there. Who the hell was Lord Byron? He sighed before writing what was on the board in his mostly blank notebook. He was getting a C- in that class. A fucking C-. His parents were livid about it. Although he was upset about the amount of pressure they put on him, in this case he couldn't really complain. After all, it was English class. He had gotten at least an A, if not an A+ in English every year since they started giving letter rankings in second grade. He loved English. English and history, those were always his favorite classes (well besides Theatre Arts and Photography, but he didn't count them). It really made no sense that this year English was his worst subject... Except, he thought with a glance to the corner of the room, it made perfect sense. After all, this _was_ the only class he was so…distracted in. He really couldn't help it. How could he maintain a good grade if he wasn't mentally there for the whole class?

I must pay attention. He thought, forcing himself to listen to Mrs. Hartwell's lecture. He perked up slightly when he heard her say "Percy Shelley". He liked Percy Shelley. He was one of the few people he knew that liked his writing better than his wife's.

Good, he thought, it shouldn't be too hard to pay attention for the rest of class.

He lasted for seven minutes.

He had been doing so good too, but then…Mrs. Hartwell had said to take out their reading books and then, He spoke.

"I don't have my book."

Mark's head turned to look at the reason he was barely passing English: Roger Davis.

Yes, Mark was distracted by a boy…but Roger wasn't just any boy. He was a bleach blonde, Gorgeous, cocky smiling, got a tattoo at fourteen, boy. When he entered a room Mark always expected an announcer to narrate: "Entering the classroom, Roger Davis: Rock Star Extraordinaire."

Okay, so Roger wasn't exactly a rock star…in reality, he was a seventeen year old kid in a class of fifteen year olds, who was in a garage band that played in the seediest, most tone deaf places around…when they were lucky.

Mark didn't care. He'd been attracted to him since he first heard him sing in the school talent show Mark's freshman year…which was only a few months ago, but still, in high school that was a long crush. And he was just lucky (or unlucky) enough for them to be in the same English class this year.

Not only that, but his assigned seat happened to offer him an almost perfect view of the musician. Could he really be blamed for starring? It was Mrs. Hartwell's fault, really. Too bad he couldn't explain that to his parents when his grades came in…

Mark's attention on Roger tripled as he suddenly started scooting his chair closer to the desk next to him. Apparently Mrs. Hartwell had told him to share his text with Jamie. Mark watched as their desks came together and Roger shifted in his seat so that he was leaning towards the other boy, their bodies close as they both looked off Jamie's book.

Mark would have given anything to be in Jamie's seat. They read out of their books for twenty minutes.

Mark never even got his reading book out.

LINELINELINELINE

Last day of school. Finally, he wouldn't have to worry about Roger Davis anymore. He slung his pack over his shoulder and started towards the door. He was startled out of his path by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Roger standing next to him, facing away. Mark swallowed hard. He had no idea why he was being stopped, but he knew he couldn't handle it. He stepped forward, or tried to at least. As soon as he had moved the grip on his shoulder tightened and the other boy turned to face him.

"Stay. I need to talk to you." He commanded, giving him a sharp look before looking away again.

Mark obeyed, nervously watching everyone else vacate the room. Mrs. Hartwell had her free period next, so even she left after a moment, giving them a curious glance before she did so. Once everyone was gone Mark looked up at Roger who was still not looking at him.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Mark asked nervously, his voice just above a whisper.

Roger finally turned to face him. "No."

Mark didn't even time to register his own confusion before a pair of lips crashed down onto his. A hand slid behind his neck, holding him in place as another framed one side of his face, the warm callused fingers sparking fire in his skin. An insistent tongue met his lips and he immediately opened his mouth, allowing the kiss to grow deeper. His head swam in a mix of confusion and bliss and all he could concentrate on was remaining on his feet, his efforts to not moan failing as that hot tongue plundered his mouth. Nothing he ever imagined had come close to how _this_ felt. Then all too soon it was over, and he was left leaning forward into nothing, his mouth partially open and his eyes shut as he struggled to hold back his whimper.

A chuckle rained down at him, forcing him back into reality. Straightening, he promptly opened his eyes to see Roger Davis softly laughing at him, not in mockery but in simple amusement.

"Wh-wh-what…why?" Mark stuttered, gaping at his crush.

Roger smirked at him, tongue peeking out to run over his lips quickly. Mark stared at it, _that tongue was in my…don't faint Mark, whatever you do don't faint. _

Roger saw his eyes and if possible his face got even more smug. "Kid, you've been staring at me all year." Mark reddened, looking down hurriedly. "Don't worry, I ain't mad…I just thought I'd make your bad grade worth it."

Mark jerked his head back up in time to see the rocker grin at him cheekily before turning to leave. Mark watched him walk out, heart leaping into his throat when he paused at the door. Glancing back, Roger made eye contact for a moment.

"Still staring." He teased, watching as the other boy reddened, mouth open as he struggled to find something to say. "Keep it that way." he added, winking as he turned and left.

Mark laughed shakily, collapsing into the nearest chair. _A C+…_, he thought to himself, _Oh yeah, definitely worth it._


End file.
